


Sherlollipops - Jumping Through Hoops

by MizJoely



Series: 221 Sherlollipops [105]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Sherlolly - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-05
Updated: 2015-11-05
Packaged: 2018-04-30 05:42:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5152442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MizJoely/pseuds/MizJoely
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>MorbidbyDefault said: Um...I don't know if you want more prompts, but if so...here's one. Molly can't seem to stop crying, much to Sherlock's dismay. He tries to figure it out, and is taken by surprise when he finally figures it out. (Can be any sort of surprise...Teehee. I just like Sherlock jumping through hoops to make Molly happy...and surprised Sherlock)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sherlollipops - Jumping Through Hoops

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MorbidbyDefault](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MorbidbyDefault/gifts).



_“Is she in any kind of pain?”_

“Not that I’m aware of.”

_“Has someone said something hurtful to her lately?”_

“No, John! I’ve been taking care NOT to say anything hurtful, thank you very much!”

A heavy sigh came from the other end of the mobile. _“It doesn’t necessarily have to be YOU, you git. What about coworkers, friends, online trolls?”_

“Online what?”

_“For her blog, Sherlock.”_ John was oozing patience now, a trait he’d been forced into with Sherlock and had honed upon the birth of his daughter, now deep in the throes of her terrible twos. _“Has anyone been saying crap about her on her blog? I know you monitor it,”_ he added.

Sherlock shrugged, keeping one eye on his weeping girlfriend (who had thrown herself across their bed after he’d greeted her with “And how was your day?” instead of just deducing it, as she’d insisted he do once they became romantically involved). “Nothing on her blog, the idiots who were sending her hate mail when our involvement became public were all shut down very efficiently by my brother. And he’s the one who ‘monitors’ her blog, by the way; as her boyfriend, I should think it would be perfectly normal and acceptable for me to look in on it now and then...”

_“Yes, fine, you’re a prince among men,”_ John interrupted impatiently. Sherlock could hear Belinda shouting something about tiaras and army men in the background, and grinned at the thought of her dressing her father in her play jewelry. Again. The pictures Mary had sent over a few weeks back had been priceless, made both him and Molly giggle.

The thought of Molly brought his momentary cheer to a quick end. She was still sobbing and he was still utterly clueless as to why. “So what do I do? What do I say? All I did was ask her about her day and she burst into tears and ran into the bedroom!”

_“You go in after her and ask her what’s wrong,”_ John said, then almost immediately added, _“Yes, of course, sweetheart, Daddy will be happy to wear the pink tiara, just let me finish talking to Uncle Sherlock, yeah?”_

That of course was the wrong thing to say; Belinda immediately began clamoring for the phone, which John was forced to hand over to keep her from throwing a world-class tantrum. Sherlock then spent another three and a half minutes assuring his god-daughter that yes, he and Aunt Molly would be happy to come over for an army man tea party with her mummy and daddy and stuffed animals and toy soldiers. “Tomorrow,” he added in a murmur as John was finally able to take the phone back.

_“I heard that,”_ his friend grumbled. _“But you’re off the hook till you find out what’s wrong with Molly. And yes, I expect an update, even if it’s just along the lines of ‘she had a bad day at work’, got it? Don’t make me sic Mary on you!”_

The mock-threat was ignored as Sherlock mumbled his farewells, turned the mobile off entirely and tossed it on the sofa. If he was going to try to comfort Molly all by himself, he wanted no interruptions. Bearing that in mind, he detoured over to the door, shut it and locked it, the agreed-upon ‘no calling hoo-hoo up the stairs’ signal for Mrs. Hudson. A particularly embarrassing encounter when he’d been mostly naked on the sofa while attempting to bring Molly to the same state had been the catalyst for the new system.

The details having been taken care of, he headed with some trepidation to the bedroom he and Molly had been sharing for the past eight months. He’d wanted her to move in, oh, about five minutes after their first kiss, but she’d insisted on waiting until they’d ‘tried things on’ for six months before taking such a huge step. Luckily she hadn’t been nearly as stubborn about waiting for sex; they’d been doing that for well over a year now, and it had been very, very good.

He paused in the doorway, mentally reviewing his most recent actions just to assure himself that he’d done nothing to warrant her current crying jag; finding nothing, he nodded, straightened his shoulders, and waded into the fray.

“Molly? What’s wrong? What did I do? Whatever it is, I swear I’ll fix it,” he blurted out as he dropped to his knees by the bed, reaching up to take her hands in his. Damn, so much for his male ego; that was NOTHING like what he’d meant to say.

Still, it was effective, if the watery smile she was giving him was anything to go by. “It’s not anything you’ve done, you daft man,” she said affectionately (and through a series of sniffles). He thumbed away the tears on her cheeks and waited for her to continue instead of jumping in with a deduction the way he might have done before she’d moved in.

As Molly shuffled over to give him room to lie next to her, he froze in sudden dismay as she seemed to rethink her words. “Well, actually...”

“Whatever it is, I swear I can fix it,” he immediately promised. “Is it the baboon heart? I know I said I would move it from the crisper to the new fridge upstairs, but I wanted to keep an eye on it...”

Molly was struggling to hold in her emotions again – but this time it was laughter she couldn’t restrain. She shook her head and cradled his face close to hers as she giggled. “No, nothing like that. This is something that’s actually both our faults, mine and yours. Sort of. Not that I’m laying blame on either of us because it’s just one of those things, you know? We got excited at the end of the Crocodile-Poisson case, and a bit drunk...and neither one of us thought about using a condom...”

Her laughter had died well before the end of her rush of speech; she was biting her lip and looking nervously at him. Why was she nervous? He was the one waiting for her eventually come to her senses and realize what a mistake she’d made in agreeing to a romantic relationship with him! HE was the ex-junkie, HE was the one people called a freak, who’d self-diagnosed himself as a high functioning sociopath because it was far easier to pretend not to have emotions than to deal with the intensity of the ones he did possess...

His brain stuttered to a stop as the meaning of her words finally filtered through the mass of self-loathing and guilt and reached the logical core of his mind.

“You’re pregnant,” he breathed, once he could speak.

She nodded, tears gathering in the corners of her eyes again. “We’ve never talked about children, and I just want you to know this wasn’t some sort of...trap, or, or evil scheme to force you to stay with me...mmmph!”

He interrupted her with a passionate kiss, relieved and happy and yes, the tiniest bit overwhelmed but never mind, think about that later. Together. They could deal with it together, because clearly this meant she wasn’t going to leave him, and with a child even if she did they’d be tied to one another for life so no matter how horribly he messed things up, she’d always be there.

“Yes, of course I will! I’m not going anywhere, Sherlock!” Molly said, the first clue he had that he’d said all that aloud. “I love you, you git! And I guess this means you’re not upset about the baby, then?”

“Not at all,” he assured her, taking the time for another kiss before resuming speech. By now she was cuddled in his arms, her body warm against his, and he traced a soft path over her abdomen, still soft and flat and encased in her favorite pair of hideous khakis. “I admit, it’s not something I ever thought about, but now that I know?” His smile matched hers for radiance when he said softly, “This is the second best thing to ever happen to me, Molly, and I know you can deduce the first.”

This time she kissed him, her lips warm and sweet against his. As he pulled at her clothes, he thought distractedly that things couldn’t have worked out better if he’d planned them.

“Oh, and I love you too,” he added as he pressed a kiss to her now-bare abdomen. “Both of you.”


End file.
